


Wingman

by Kalira



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Emotional Truth Serum, Fandom Trumps Hate, Fluff, Friendship, Getting Together, Humor, Love, M/M, POV Multiple, Pining, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Shiro (Voltron), Sex Pollen, Smut, Soppy, Wingman Lance (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-12-27 06:03:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21113894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalira/pseuds/Kalira
Summary: Lance's friends are absolutelystupidin love with each other - and just being stupid over it. Fortunately, they have the best wingman around on the case to help them!





	Wingman

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DigitalMeowMix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DigitalMeowMix/gifts).

> This is for DigitalMeowMix, who won me in this year's [Fandom Trumps Hate](https://fandomtrumpshate.dreamwidth.org/). Thank you so much, and for your patience! I hope this fic meets all your hopes for it~

Lance shifted the toddler balanced on his hip and made a shushing noise. He suspected the bright lights bothered her eyes, but what could he do? Alteans were all about the lights, and the Castle of Lions was _bright_.

Maybe once he snagged his ‘helper’ they could go to one of the observation decks or something; somewhere with a little less lighting even during the on shift cycle. But not _too_ out of the way, or it would defeat the purpose - Shiro needed to _see_, he thought determinedly.

Keith wouldn’t _speak_ to him - and part of Lance understood the terror Keith seemed to harbour of such a discussion, while part of him just circled back to wondering what breed of wolves had raised Keith, possibly out in that desert where his . . . shack . . . had been - and Shiro. . . Well, Lance was (almost) _sure_ that Shiro had feelings for Keith right back, but _he_ certainly wasn’t doing anything about it. Not without a nudge. Lance had given up prodding at _that_ quarter, especially since _Shiro_ hadn’t - and wouldn’t - confide in him.

“We’re going to be a nudge!” Lance told Laenari brightly, and she smiled at him, wriggling in the grip of his arm. Lord knew the pair of them needed it - and so did Lance, because he was _choking_ on the unresolved . . . _feelings_. And he was gratified Keith confided in him, he was! They were great friends and it was _awesome_!

. . .but Lance was also _really_ tired of this theme. Especially when it came with seeing Keith watch Shiro hopelessly whenever he was in range and not paying attention, and the way Shiro hovered over Keith, and. . . No. Lance would get them together if it was the _last thing he did_.

It shouldn’t take much. So Keith wouldn’t talk to Shiro about his feelings. Lance would just make sure _something_ caught Shiro’s eye and drew his attention to Keith in a new way. Something new and lovable. Lance grinned at Laenari, then swung around the corner into the lounge where he happily found the rest of his teammates, bar Shiro, who he knew was currently on his way back to the Castle from a chat with some of the guardsmen while Allura spoke to more politicians. Including Laenari’s parents, Lance was pretty sure.

“Hey! So, Keith,” Lance zeroed in on his friend, “how are you with kids?” he asked brightly.

Keith’s head snapped up and his eyes went wide. “What? Oh, Lance, _no_. No.” He smiled weakly at Laenari as she wriggled in Lance’s arms. “No that is . . . not a good idea.”

“It’s a _terrible_ idea.” Hunk said from the other couch, and Lance shot him a betrayed look even as a mortified expression came over his face. Probably as he realised he had spoken loud enough to actually be heard.

“_Keith_. . .” Lance wheedled pointedly. “Come on! I need help! Don’t we need help, kiddo?” he asked Laenari sweetly. She giggled, throwing her arms up and out. Precious kid.

“Wouldn’t Pidge be better, in this case?” Keith asked, eyeing the little Olkari as she turned back towards him with a curious look to match his own, evidently unbothered by either his perusement or the comment, assuming she understood it. “I mean. . .” he gestured at the girl. “Pidge gets along _great_ with the Olkari.”

“Pidge? _Babysitting?_” Lance repeated, shuddering theatrically - which took very little effort, because the thought was kind of terrifying. He adored Pidge, he did, she was awesome and scary and brilliant and all that, but. . . Whoa. He couldn’t imagine her babysitting.

“_Keith?_ Babysitting?” Hunk muttered, and Lance gave him another _look_, although- Well, that was actually fair too. Keith was . . . kind of a disaster. But Lance would be there to help! And surely Keith couldn’t be _that_ bad; Lance had learned he was surprisingly good at a number of things he would have been willing to bet were _way_ outside of Keith’s comfort zone over the past year out here.

“C’mon, buddy, give me a hand?” Lance made his best pitiful face at Keith.

Keith rolled his eyes, but he _also_ got up and made his way across towards Lance and Laenari, so Lance marked it mentally as a win. No one could resist the face.

“This is Laenari,” Lance said brightly, bouncing the girl on his hip and gesturing to Keith, who had his soft smile on - Lance usually only saw it when he was in the middle of having a breakdown himself, or when Keith was talking to Shiro, “Laenari, this is my friend Keith! He’s going to play with us, won’t that be fun?”

Laenari made what Lance was ninety-seven percent sure was a happy sound and wriggled, then reached for Keith. She lunged so suddenly that if Lance hadn’t been ready for just such a manoeuvre - _he_ knew kids - she would have tumbled from his grip.

Keith probably would have caught her, though, Lance realised with only a little surprise, as he had already extended his hands to take her before Lance had steadied her himself. Lance let her go to Keith, rolling his shoulders and stretching out his arms as Keith greeted her in a quiet voice.

Lance grinned as his friend and the toddler inspected each other with mutual curiosity. This was totally a great plan _he was a genius_.

Lance was still thinking he was a genius, although for different reasons, a varga or so later, in one of the dimmer observation decks, as he sprawled on the padded section of the floor - it was _for lounging_, he was only using for its intended purpose, he told himself - to catch his breath, watching Keith and Laenari play some sort of obscure game she had explained to them. Neither Lance nor Keith had quite gotten all the sense of it, but they were apparently doing well enough to entertain Laenari, as she kept bursting into giggles and ascribing or taking away points Lance was not entirely sure were due to an actual rule system and not just made up on a whim.

Whatever; the kid was happy and having fun and that was the important part.

Lance was worn the heck out, though, and he was so very glad he’d waylaid Keith into helping him with this because Keith was still going, now playfully chasing Laenari around the room and going out of his way to leap furniture or roll across the floor. It was silly and took extra effort but it made her laugh and it gave her more chances to get away from him.

Lance hadn’t really thought Keith would be so good at it, but the little girl was _delighted_, even when he caught her and swung her up into the air yet again. This time Lance barely flinched as Keith actually tossed her lightly and- Yep, there it was, caught her again and swung into a circle with her as she laughed _madly_ before toppling onto his back and letting her ‘pin’ him there.

Lance smiled fondly as he pushed himself up, watching his friend, and-

His head whipped around to the doorway and he suppressed a grin or a triumphant noise as Shiro froze in the doorway, eyes fixed on Keith. Keith and Laenari. Lance giggled quietly and glanced over at them again himself. Keith was up again now, holding Laenari against his side, who was now yawning, tugging a bit at a handful of his hair as he bounced her.

It _did_ look . . . staggeringly domestic, Lance thought wryly, even to him.

A thump drew Lance’s attention back to Shiro, and he stared as Shiro stumbled against the doorframe, then walked _straight_ into it again. Twice. Before he made it out the door properly - Keith was staring at him by then, looking concerned and distressed and bouncing Laenari a little to soothe her - and hurried away.

Lance hummed, feeling a bit smug. Shiro had been even more affected than he could have guessed, honestly, and even if Keith hadn’t realised _why_ Shiro had reacted that way - he could be startlingly obtuse sometimes, really - there was no way Shiro could put _that_ out of his mind. He had _actually walked into a wall_, Lance was _thrilled_.

* * *

Lance was distinctly unthrilled. He let Keith into his bunk and flopped across the bed, gesturing with a weak flap of one hand.

Keith slouched down to sit beside him, legs tucked up and head bowed. Lance sighed, reaching out and patting his friend’s ankle. Keith turned eyes that should _not_ manage to be so sad and pitiful on him, and Lance gave him a weak smile.

“He _hates_ me!” Keith cried miserably, his eyes damp, and Lance barely resisted the urge to bang his head against something. The wall was close enough to reach, if he stretched a little more. . . “Lance, what did I _do_? Shiro has never- I can’t- He won’t even _look_ at me any more, and when I try to talk to him. . .”

Lance was pretty sure he knew why Shiro couldn’t look at Keith any more and it had nothing to do with _hating_ him - Lance was _entirely_ sure Shiro was incapable of that, for Keith at least - and a lot more to do with some combination of Shiro’s heart and what was in Shiro’s pants. And Shiro refusing to act on the urgings of either.

Especially given Shiro was still walking into things when Keith was around. He’d tripped over _Pidge_ yesterday, which had been hilarious and also a little terrifying. Especially when Pidge had started flailing too, and the cursing. . .

“What can I _do_, Lance?” Keith asked after a while, and Lance rubbed his back, sighing. “I don’t know how to fix it, I don’t even know what I _did_. . .” His eyes were wide and wet and hopeful and Lance didn’t know how else to try and explain what he was so sure of.

“I am _sure_ Shiro doesn’t hate you, man.” Lance said comfortingly. Again. It might have been a slightly less comforting tone at this point than he was really trying for, but he’d said it a lot. He hugged Keith to make up for it, getting a bony shoulder in his armpit in the process, but Keith leaned into him and returned it comfortably, which was _so much progress_ from where they had started a couple of years ago. “Look, I’ll help you, okay?”

“Thanks, Lance.” Keith said into his shoulder, and Lance grinned.

Yeah, it might be driving him crazy - both of them, and it wasn’t just Keith’s fault, not by a long shot - but. . . They were his friends, and Lance loved them. He really did want to help.

* * *

Lance hung back as Pidge trotted off to do lord only knew what and Hunk headed, predictably, for the kitchen. Lance’s stomach grumbled and he patted it lightly, promising it he would follow Hunk and find a snack just as soon as he finished his self-appointed task.

Quietly, so the noise of running water would cover any sound he made and keep it from reaching Keith or Shiro.

He glanced towards the showers, snickering a little as he heard a hum from Shiro - not quite singing in the shower, but very close. Lance wondered if he’d used to, _before_, then put it out of his mind as he spotted what he was after. He darted across and collected two neatly-folded heaps of clothing, scanned the room once more - nothing jumped out at him, and their armour and undersuits had already been removed to the training deck’s anteroom on the other side - and then hurriedly taking himself out.

He silently congratulated himself as the door closed behind him. Left alone, stuck together, _naked_, surely at least _one of them_ would find themselves unable to resist the other. These idiots had been pining over each other for _far too long_, and he’d seen how they looked at each other; it was clearly difficult enough for both of them not to jump the other when they were fully clothed and in company.

Lance hummed smugly and carried their clothes off to stash them somewhere out of the way, delighted with his plan.

* * *

Lance flopped over backwards on his bunk, then rolled over and planted his face in his pillow, yelling into it.

Shiro and Keith had been late back from the showers after training, and Lance had been _very_ pleased with himself. Pidge had threatened to dump her juice over his head for being smug and demanded to know what stupid thing he had done, but he’d ignored her - and made sure he was across the table from her, because he was _not_ a fool. He had been even _more_ pleased when they showed up together, blushing furiously, even if it was a bit quicker than he would have expected - and _there_ was something he didn’t want to think about . . . but maybe they’d been longing for each other for so long they hadn’t- But they would have spent very little time after, too. . .

Then again, the showers weren’t the most comfortable place, perhaps.

Lance’s delight had been dashed very shortly afterwards, however. Not helped along by Shiro - alternately stealing glances at Keith and looking at the floor to avoid him; he hadn’t looked at Lance even while telling him off, which had somehow made it even more irritating - assigning him cleaning duty as punishment for his ‘prank’. Lance had been trying to help! Was it his fault his teammates - his friends - were morons?

Lance sighed, flopping over onto his back again and tugging his pillow out from under his head, hugging it to his chest. They were _disasters_, both of them. How could they not see how much they _wanted_ each other?

It was obvious to anyone that was around them for any length of time . . . for more than five minutes, really. And it was so clearly more than just lust, too, although they . . . definitely seemed to have that as well. They were in _love_, the idiots, and they wouldn’t _talk to each other_, and Lance was actually beginning to run out of ideas.

He wished they would _talk_, hell even _one_ of them getting it started, damn it.

Lance’s latest attempt had done nothing except get him - unfairly! - punished, and make it so that Keith couldn’t look at _Shiro_, either. And give them all a _great_ memory of Shiro and Keith both blushing furiously, of course. Lance laughed a little at that.

It died quickly, though, and he sighed.

. . .well, that and he’d probably managed to unintentionally diversify their fantasies about each other, adding more detail. That was _so_ not what he had meant to happen.

Assuming, as pitiful as their pining was, they even _did_-

Lance’s face screwed up. He didn’t want to think about what Keith or Shiro might do, alone in their bunks, pining after each other. He didn’t want to think about what they might do _together_ in one of their bunks either, but he wished they would get to it, or at least _something_, before their romantic longing drove everyone else on the Castle completely crazy.

* * *

Lance hummed smugly to himself, hands tucked in his hoodie pockets, grinning as he sauntered into the lounge, thinking of Keith eyeing the plant Lance had - carefully! - pressed into his hands. Keith had taken a little wheedling to agree, but Lance had sent him off with a truncated explanation of the plant to gift it to Shiro.

Lance had even been _very_ careful the _entire time_ he had the plant himself, from the moment he acquired it, and never touched it himself even a little! He couldn’t repeat the name, but Lance had listened to lots of romantic stories about how it drew people together - almost magically, in some cases - and while Keith and Shiro might not have the background for it . . . well, it was pretty, anyway, and if it got them to talk, Lance would be _thrilled_.

Keith had been distracted enough by the alien traditions Lance had told him that he’d missed the part where he’d be straightforwardly _giving_ Shiro the plant. Hopefully that would kick off at least a conversation. Lance would possibly dance with joy if they _kissed_.

“What have you done?” Pidge asked, with an _entirely_ too accusatory tone, eyeing him suspiciously over her tablet.

Lance pouted at her. “Pidge! How _could_ you?” he asked, his eyes wide.

“No, no, that’s _definitely_ your ‘I’ve done something’ face.” Hunk said with authority.

Lance clutched his chest, shooting his best friend a betrayed look.

“So what have you done?” Hunk asked reasonably, and Lance sprawled sideways dramatically, but wasn’t terribly surprised when Hunk only continued to wait patiently, watching him. Pidge had rolled her eyes and gone back to tapping at her tablet.

“I got Keith to go and give Shiro a _present_!” Lance said, grinning. Both his friends stared at him. “No, no, it’s great! I was down on the planet, wandering the market, you know? Taking in the culture, getting to _know_ people. . .”

“Yeah, yeah.” Pidge said, waving her hand. “You’re good at that.”

Her tone was dry, but she grinned at him, and Lance grinned back. He _was_ good at that, and he enjoyed it, but it was also nice that his friends appreciated what he did. “_So_, while I was being _amazing_ and bonding with the general populace and stunning them all-”

“Don’t go too far.” Pidge snorted.

“_Anyway!_” Lance raised his voice. “So I heard all these cool stories about something that brings couples together, or brings them closer, apparently the legends go back, like, since before history began and all that.”

“Cool!” Hunk said, eyes bright. “Like their archetypal love stories?”

“Right! But! Apparently this is a real plant, one that they are very respectful and proud of!” Lance told them happily. “And, of course, it’s still around, not just in their songs and stories - I saw a bit of something like a TV drama today with it as a plot device, it was really cool - but the _actual plant_! It still grows wild as well as their cultivars, which have _all_ kinds of laws about how you can and cannot propagate it, and no genetic engineering, and restrictions on where you can even grow it.”

“. . .you got a plant.” Pidge said flatly.

“No, no, _Keith_ got _Shiro_ a plant.” Lance’s grin widened. “A _romantic_ plant. For _couples_. Only the couple is supposed to touch it, even, and Keith is taking it to Shiro right now and see them get out of _that_ without admitting a few things to each other!”

“Only the couple is supposed to touch the plant?” Hunk repeated. “Why is that?”

“Couple or,” Lance flushed a little, “whatever. You know?” He cleared his throat. “And so it can _draw them together_, and increase intimacy and ‘reveal what the heart feels and the tongue has held back’ and all that good stuff-”

“I- Pardon?” Allura interrupted, startling Lance - he hadn’t noticed her coming into the lounge. And more startled that she had interrupted _herself_ \- the princess was rarely uncertain of her words.

“Princess?” Lance returned, looking at her. “I was talking about the plant I- Well.” He grinned. “_Keith_ got _Shiro_. That I got for them.” He closed his eyes for a moment, puffing up and getting comfortable. Then he opened them to gauge the reaction. “You know . . . to bring them together, to reveal the heart’s hidden hopes. . .”

“. . .Lance, _what_ did you just say?” Allura questioned, and Lance grinned at her again.

“I think I’ve _finally_ got Keith and Shiro pushed towards each other enough they might actually admit they have feelings for each other!” he said happily.

“No, not that- Or, well, yes, _that_. A . . . plant?” Allura repeated.

“Yeah! Uh, I can’t repeat the name,” Lance said, mouth twisting; he had _tried_, but he didn’t think a human tongue could quite get around those syllables and . . . clicks, “but it’s a _romantic plant_, just for couples,” he told her as he had told the others, “I heard all kinds of stories and traditions about it, and that it’s in a lot of songs and love stories!” He smiled, proud of himself. “I even kept to the traditions myself and everything! I didn’t even touch a _leaf_ myself!”

“I can see _that_ much.” Allura muttered, confusingly. She did not look as pleased or impressed as Lance would have _liked_, but he wasn’t terribly surprised, any more than he had been with his other friends. He huffed softly. Well, they’d see when Keith and Shiro finally got their act together, because of _him_.

* * *

Keith frowned slightly. “What am I supposed to do with you . . . why did I let Lance talk me into this?” _How_ had he let Lance talk him into this, really.

He suppressed a shudder at the nervous, slightly nauseating twist in the pit of his stomach and absently steadied the plant as he took a bit quicker stride. He trailed his fingers up the underside of one arching, deep purple leaf.

It bobbed with his touch, and Keith shivered and lifted his head, focusing on getting to Shiro’s door. Lance had extracted a promise he would take this plant to Shiro, and _not_ say Lance had orchestrated the whole thing - he didn’t have to _lie_, just . . . not say Lance had anything to do with it, outright - and _give_ it to Shiro, and- and somehow it was supposed to . . . help.

Keith shook his head, and couldn’t see _how_, but he’d promised.

. . .were the leaves of this weird plant a different shade of purple now than they had been? Keith eyed it, pausing mid-step.

Delaying, Keith. He was _delaying_. The plant was fine. Lance had put it into his hands less than ten doboshes ago. Keith might not be good with plants but even _he_ couldn’t do any damage in _that_ little time.

. . .not _accidentally_, anyway.

Keith checked it again as he was waiting for Shiro, getting distracted looking at the reddish veins which he was _sure_ were darker now, even if the leaves themselves were not. . . Shiro called his name and he jumped, lifting his head and falling into soft grey eyes, warm with concern. “Shiro!” The concern was unnecessary, of course, but it was very sweet.

_Shiro_ was very sweet. Keith smiled at him. “This is for you!” he remembered abruptly, offering up the plant. Its leaves bobbed prettily, spreading out a little wider as though the plant was trying to look more appealing. Keith smiled at it, too.

“Keith, are you all right?” Shiro asked, reaching out, left arm brushing against the plant, though he didn’t try to take it, instead catching Keith’s arm. But he was drawing Keith into his room, so Keith supposed that was all right.

“I’m fine, Shiro.” Keith assured him, happy that they were at least _talking_ again. His eyes strayed down Shiro’s face, along his broad jaw to his neck. “Mm. . . Fine, yes. For you!”

He held out the plant again, hopefully. Shiro took it slowly, turning the pot in his hands. His eyes roved over the plant, then back up to meet Keith’s. “Thank you. . . Erm. Why?”

Keith took a breath, then caught himself before he could say Lance’s name. “I, ah. . . Supposed to talk with you.” he mumbled.

“. . .the plant is?” Shiro asked, considering it again, a bit more warily.

“No!” Keith assured him, resting a hand on his wrist. “No, not the plant. Ah. I . . . am. Me. Talk to you. And the _plant_ is . . . _for_ you. Because of that.” This had somehow made more sense when Lance was shoving the plant - carefully - into his hands, hurrying him off to see Shiro, he thought. Or maybe it hadn’t. Keith just. . . “I really wanted to see you.” he said honestly.

Shiro smiled rather brilliantly, and Keith sighed, leaning towards him. “I- I _always_ love to see you, Keith.” he said, with a hint of ruddy colour in his cheeks.

Keith realised the soft keening sound was coming from his own throat and twitched, ducking his head. He reached out to Shiro again though, fingers brushing his shirt. “I love _you_, Shiro.” he crooned, nudging Shiro’s arms apart - he let Keith do it, holding the plant in one hand, wobbling slightly.

He stepped close, almost snuggling against Shiro’s chest, unable to resist as Shiro’s hand slid over his shoulder and back, almost nudging him in, and then looked up. Shiro’s eyes were wide and his lips parted. “_Keith!_”

Keith tensed, breath catching, as he realised what- Oh, what he had_ said_-

“Shiro, I- I’m-” Keith swallowed thickly, choking a little, pulling back. What had gotten _into_ him, how could he have- Keith startled, almost lashing out against Shiro’s chest and shoulder reflexively as Shiro-

Keith pressed against Shiro, tilted his head and returning the hot, headlong kiss eagerly, sliding one hand up to ruffle through Shiro’s short hair and cup his head. “Shiro. . .” he moaned against Shiro’s mouth, biting gently. He could feel the kiss all the way down to his _toes_, practically quivering with it. “Oh, I- _Shiro_.”

“Keith, baby, you. . .” Shiro’s metal hand slid down his side and over his hip and ass, tugging him in even closer. As though he would have tried to pull away. As though he wasn’t already trying to close any space left between them himself. Keith wound his arms around Shiro’s neck and shoulders, holding himself closer still, nuzzling Shiro’s face between kisses.

There was a muted, rustling thump and Shiro’s other arm wrapped around his waist, squeezing him in tight and knocking the breath from him, stoking the warmth beginning to coil in his lower belly and making it flare hotter. Keith broke away with a gasp and Shiro flushed, gentling his grip and petting Keith’s back instead.

Keith grinned, feeling a little shivery and amused at once. “I like it when you. . .” He ducked his head, then nuzzled at Shiro’s jaw, arching to press into him.

“You’re so beautiful.” Shiro said against his cheek, and Keith squirmed even as Shiro sought out his mouth again, purring into the kiss. “I can never get you out of my head.” he admitted on a rough breath, pressed against Keith’s mouth and stoking the taut curl in his stomach almost as much as the sudden bloom of warmth in his chest. “I wouldn’t- I don’t even _want_ you out of my head, but it feels like I shouldn’t. . . Well, why would you _want_\- And to press you, or to lose you because I couldn’t. . .”

“You will _never_ lose me.” Keith said, half amazed he could speak so steadily. He pulled back and pressed their brows together, their breath mingling. “I would fight my way across the entire universe to be with you, if you only wanted. . .”

“How could I not want you.” Shiro pressed the words into Keith’s jaw and neck, head dipping with a row of messy kisses. “Oh- Oh, Keith . . . baby, I. . .”

Keith clung, but-

He pulled back, fighting Shiro’s hold on him, and growled a little as he dragged his hands down from Shiro’s neck along his chest. Keith got momentarily distracted. He _knew_ what Shiro felt like from a thousand and more hugs and spars and companionable moments, but Shiro’s muscles beneath his hands, and Shiro’s _warmth_, and. . .

But Keith wanted skin, _desperately_ wanted to be even _nearer_ to Shiro. He scrabbled at the hem of Shiro’s shirt. “I _need_ you.” he said seriously, pulling it away from Shiro’s belt with a brush of fingertips over taut skin.

Shiro stiffened. “Oh. _Oh._” The muscles under Keith’s knuckles as he pulled Shiro’s shirt up tensed and all but fluttered. “Baby, yes.” Shiro kissed him hard, hands roaming his back and sides, and Keith shivered as Shiro’s right hand slipped up under his shirt at the small of his back with one particularly rough gesture.

He loved it, back arching as he pushed into Shiro’s touch, whining into his mouth, pulling his shirt up and- They would have to part to get Shiro’s shirt over his head, and Keith frowned but yanked at it impatiently anyway, nipping and sucking at Shiro’s lower lip and getting rather distracted, lost in his kiss again, hands still curled into the fabric of Shiro’s shirt. Shiro’s arms wound more snugly around him once more as well, but one of them was now pushing his shirt up and resting against his skin, all delicious warmth and a very faint thrum from deep inside the machinery.

Keith moaned softly, pressing bodily against Shiro again, knowing he wanted more of Shiro but he _needed_ to be close, to feel him.

“You’re so _sweet_ like this,” Shiro said against his ear, breath tickling his neck, “I never thought- I _imagined_ you,” he made a little whining sound and Keith felt _buoyant_ at the admission, “oh baby I wanted you _so much_, I couldn’t ever stop. . .”

“Don’t stop.” Keith said, cupping Shiro’s face with one hand and meeting his eyes intently, their noses brushing.

Shiro smiled, rubbing their noses together gently. It shouldn’t have been _possible_ for the little gesture to spark another wave of needy heat in Keith’s body, but his knees all but wobbled with the intensity of it regardless.

“I wouldn’t know how.” Shiro said, kissing him more softly. Keith purred, clinging to Shiro’s shoulder with one hand, shirt crumpled tight into his grip. He startled as there was a harder tug at his own shirt, and then Shiro’s hand was splayed out over his back, sweeping all the way up to his hairline and back down with no fabric in the way. His stomach tightened and he wriggled, realising his shirt was _gone_.

Good.

The caresses against his bare skin only made him warmer, his insides feeling tight and hot and gone to liquid all at the same time - it wouldn’t have seemed like a pleasant sensation had it been described to him, but Keith could only want more of it - and Keith was filled with new determination to get at Shiro’s skin. More of it. _All_ of it.

Keith pulled back, not completely away from Shiro’s hands but knocking one of his arms aside, and a few quick breaths later Shiro’s belt and pouches were hitting the floor - they ruffled the plant’s leaves as they dropped. Glancing down, Keith felt a pang of guilt for the poor thing now plopped on the floor, and likely none too gently, but it was upright and didn’t look too disturbed, and then Keith’s mind was abruptly cleared of anything but _Shiro_ again as a warm kiss pressed to his shoulder.

“_Ooh_, Shiro. . .” Keith shuddered, even as he quickly pulled Shiro’s shirt up, elbow catching against Shiro’s bicep as they twisted together to get the fabric out of the way without putting a breath more space between them.

Shiro shivered, fingertips curling into Keith’s belt and pants, working clumsily at them until, as they struggled to keep _touching_ each other, Keith toppled over and landed on his ass at the edge of Shiro’s bunk. His breath caught as he looked up at Shiro, half leaning over him, and their eyes met. Keith’s toes curled and Shiro swallowed visibly.

“Please.” Keith said breathlessly, not even quite sure which of the dozen things in his mind he was asking for, or if it was only _Shiro_, himself. All of him. _Now_.

Shiro stepped closer and dropped to his knees, hands sliding down over Keith’s legs. He pressed his lips together, thighs tensing and throat tight, his breath coming shallowly. His stomach was warm with shivery twitches, his body all but _aching_ with how much he _needed_ Shiro close to him. Closer. As close- As close as he could possibly _come_.

“Shiro. . .” Keith breathed unsteadily, hands sliding over his hair, face, shoulders.

“Baby.” Shiro said, eyes half closing as he nestled his face into Keith’s touch, hands rubbing up and down Keith’s thighs. Keith spread them a little, hooking one heel behind Shiro’s thigh and pulling at him, wanting him _closer_.

Shiro startled, then grinned, leaning up to kiss Keith again, fit neatly between his knees and leaning heavily against the edge of the bunk. He was warm and solid and close, and Keith closed his legs around Shiro, keeping him there even as he felt his head spin, his heart fluttering, with Shiro _kissing_ him, deep and wanting.

It took . . . a long time for them to pull away from each other more than the hair’s-breadth of distance and handful of seconds it took to snatch a deeper breath, to nuzzle each other or lock eyes. Keith didn’t want to let _go_, and he heard himself making a keening, whining noise as Shiro finally did slip away from him, clinging to Shiro’s broad shoulders.

Shiro sank down before him again, cheek rubbing along his knee and thigh, deep grey eyes heavy-lidded, lips parted. The muscles low in Keith’s belly tightened. He could feel Shiro’s breath against his leg through the fabric, almost feeling even closer that way than if it had been against bare skin, he thought, and-

“_Shiro._” Keith murmured, fingers brushing over his hair. It felt like ruffled velvet.

Shiro smiled, rubbing his cheek against Keith’s thigh. His hands slid down and Keith hummed, legs closing even tighter around Shiro for a moment as he shivered, but he let Shiro have his way and soon his boots were gone and Shiro’s hands were sliding from his ankles all the way back up his legs, big and broad and gentle even as they reached his thighs and squeezed.

Keith swallowed, breath catching and eyes wide, and moved up a little, into the touch of Shiro’s fingers tickling over his stomach and teasing open his jeans. Shiro paused, almost panting, and dipped his head to rest on Keith’s knee. He stroked Shiro’s temple lightly, toying with his forelock and cupping the back of his head.

“Shiro?” Keith asked softly, and Shiro’s fingers twitched where they were curled into his waistband.

“Do you- Do you want. . .” Shiro’s grip tightened. Keith blinked. “This?”

Keith shifted, knocking Shiro’s hands loose and hauling him bodily up and into a fierce kiss. This time he poured all the pent-up feelings he’d felt forced to restrain for so long into it, twisting and tangling himself up with Shiro as they sprawled across the bunk, his hands roaming his friend’s, his _beloved’s_ body. He wasn’t quite sure how they managed to rid themselves of the rest of their clothes, but by the time their desperate kiss finally ended they were both gasping, eyes glazed, and Shiro’s skin was deliciously warm against Keith’s with nothing between them as they moved together.

“Want this?” Keith repeated breathlessly, hands dragging down across Shiro’s ribs as he dipped his head and trailed an angled line of kisses just beneath Shiro’s collarbone. “Shiro. . . Shiro I want _you_, more than anything, more than-”

He broke off and pressed himself to Shiro, eyes closed, cheek against his chest. He smiled as he felt his hair being ruffled and petted. “There is nothing of you I _don’t_ want.” he said quietly.

He opened his eyes again, casting them upwards to meet Shiro’s gaze.

Shiro’s breath caught, and Keith smiled, spreading slowly but very wide. He shifted up, shivering at the slide of skin on skin as his thighs passed over Shiro’s and letting out a soft moan at the feel of Shiro’s hands curled around his hips. He glanced down, then back up to meet Shiro’s eyes as he moved, and Shiro’s eyes widened.

“Keith- You don’t- That is, I want you to. . .” Shiro swallowed thickly. “Erm. . .”

“Oh no, I want to.” Keith said, his own voice lower and a little rougher than he was used to hearing it. “Please, Shiro,” he splayed his fingers out low on Shiro’s stomach, rubbing lightly, his thumb playing through the soft hair leading down to the base of Shiro’s cock, “I want. . .”

He trailed off as Shiro shuddered under him, cheeks flushing deeper, and went still, bent halfway over Shiro.

“Is this. . .” Keith licked his lips. “Do you want. . . Shiro, do _you_ want this, are you sure?”

Shiro made a thin whining noise. “Baby. _Always._” he said, voice raw, and Keith had to put a hand down on the bed to steady himself and catch his breath just from the feeling in it, eyes wide.

Trembling all through, he gathered himself with a shaky breath, then bowed his head and kissed along Shiro’s side and stomach, just above the crest of his hip. Shiro’s breath was shallow and accompanied every so often by little moans, his muscles trembling. Keith lingered and after a moment gathered the courage to trail his tongue along a thick scar that passed over Shiro’s hip and down to the top of his thigh.

Shiro twitched, hips jerking. He didn’t complain. Keith raised a hand and lightly caressed Shiro’s cock, turning his attention to it with wide eyes. Shiro made a choked sound that could have been his name, and Keith’s entire _body_ was all but pulsing with the need for his beloved, for Shiro against him and under him and over him and. . .

Keith moaned, the sound catching in his throat as he shuddered. He dipped his head and pressed a thoughtless kiss to the head of Shiro’s cock, smearing precome over his lips and licking reflexively. Shiro let out a sharp, startled cry, stomach muscles jumping.

Keith looked up at Shiro even as he pressed another kiss there and this time opened his mouth to it, more of the sharp-salt taste spreading on his tongue. Shiro groaned, back arching as he threw his head back, legs tensing on either side of Keith.

Drawing back, Keith tentatively kissed the hot shaft instead, not entirely sure what he was doing. He just wanted- He needed to be _close_, to touch Shiro and feel him, to offer him the same shaky warmth of bliss that Keith felt in every touch himself. And he had . . . imagined, had _wanted_, everything with Shiro. Everything he could imagine. He swallowed thickly, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes as he rubbed his lips lightly against the thin, velvety skin, then let his tongue slip out to trace over it. He shivered.

He let out a sharp little cry of surprise, eyes snapping open, as Shiro’s hands caught at his shoulders and hauled him away. Keith whined, pouting and flushed, but Shiro dragged him in close and kissed him hard, moaning into his mouth as the world spun and Keith was suddenly pinned, breathless and squirming, under Shiro’s weight.

Shiro arched against him and their cocks met and slid, skin on hot, sticky-slick skin. Keith bucked and writhed, pushing himself up into the contact. Shiro’s body was big and solid over him and Keith shivered and whined needily, feeling hot and desperate rather than uncomfortable to be trapped under him.

Shiro groaned, hands sliding up Keith’s ribs. “_Need_ you, sweetheart.” he said, dipping his head and kissing his way along Keith’s shoulder. “Oh, you feel so amazing, here, with me, against me, I can’t. . .” He kissed Keith’s neck, nipping lightly and sucking at the thin skin there.

It sent waves of heat through Keith’s blood, already molten from the slide of their bodies, their _cocks_ together, the weight of Shiro over him, solid and blessedly, belovedly _there_. Keith arched and writhed beneath Shiro, folding his legs up and around Shiro’s hips and thighs, tugging and pulling him down closer.

“Shiro, _Shiro_. . .” Keith breathed, kissing along Shiro’s jaw as he lifted his head again, framing Shiro’s face in his hands and stroking down his neck and across his broad shoulders. “Shiro I need you, please, please. . .” He shivered and twisted restlessly, muscles twitching as they flexed and relaxed, trying to get _closer_, still, though they were pressed solidly together with not a breath between.

Keith’s breath caught as Shiro kissed his jaw and nuzzled down to his neck again, heat curling tighter in the pit of his stomach. “Shiro. _Shiro_ need you- need you-” his voice wasn’t quite steady as he repeated himself, and he wasn’t sure if it was all due to his breathlessness or not.

“What do you need, baby?” Shiro asked sweetly, nuzzling Keith’s ear and making him whine, toes curling and stomach fluttering.

“You. Just- _You._” Keith said honestly, shivers running all through him as his heart ached with the unfathomable depths of his affection.

Shiro hummed, hand squeezing tighter around Keith’s hip. Keith closed his eyes, rubbing his cheek against Shiro’s shoulder. “Need you _inside me_.” Keith said, throat tight. “I want- Please.”

Shiro made a thick, broken sound, his whole body shuddering and his muscles tightening under Keith’s hands. Keith stroked distractedly, and Shiro pressed down against him even more firmly, hips arching to press their cocks together. “Oh- Oh Keith, _fuck_, I want that too, _so much_.” he said, voice low and rough, left hand tightening on Keith’s hip as he moved against Keith, their cocks sliding against one another with delicious heat.

Keith mewled and rocked his own hips into that contact, eyelids fluttering shut. He stiffened, head jerking up, as Shiro moved over him, kneeling up a little and stroking his side but _pulling away_, putting space between them.

“Where are you going?” Keith demanded, catching hold of Shiro by the shoulders close at the base of his neck, sitting up hurriedly along with him. “_No_. . .” he dragged out the word, pulling at Shiro, encouraging him to come back, come down and close again. To stretch himself over Keith and block out the rest of the universe with his warmth.

“I-” Shiro’s eyes slid down Keith’s body and he licked his lips. The look in his eyes made Keith’s throat tighten and he wanted to squirm and maybe lie back and arch his back and- and show himself off under _those eyes_, if Shiro only kept looking at him _just like that_.

“Nowhere, baby.” Shiro said almost breathlessly, leaning down over him. “I wouldn’t ever want to go anywhere.” he said, which couldn’t possibly be accurate - they would have to do something else, to leave, _eventually_, a faint voice at the back of Keith’s mind remembered - but made Keith want to purr all the same. “Not with you here. Not- Not with _you_. If I have you.” Shiro’s words tangled and he made a frustrated noise which he muffled into a firm kiss.

Keith grinned, then returned the kiss, sliding one hand up to cup the back of Shiro’s head and letting the other trail down his body, fingers skipping over thick scars and the firm ridges of muscle over ribs.

“You’re so gorgeous, baby.” Shiro said, voice thick, moving against Keith as he caught Shiro’s hips between his thighs. Keith flushed, squirming, and kissed Shiro again, teeth catching on his lower lip. Their cocks dragged together, hot and a little rough with nothing but the slick of their precome between them, and Keith squirmed and gasped, hitching his thighs higher and tilting his hips.

“Shiro, Shiro want you. . .” Keith repeated, groaning and pulling Shiro in even more firmly, arching off the bed to press against him.

“Can’t.” Shiro said roughly, and Keith whined.

“_Shiro_, you can, we can,” he paused, catching his breath, “it’ll be _so good_.” he said, body thrumming with anticipation. He _ached_ for it, desperate, now that his mind had locked onto the idea; imagining the heat of Shiro’s cock filling him up and-

Shiro groaned, hips hitching against him, cock dragging over his thigh, knocking the thoughts from Keith’s head as his toes curled. He shifted to bring their cocks together again, twisting fluidly, and only vaguely caught the rest of Shiro’s words as he managed it and pleasure spiked through him.

Wait, no, that was- They could fix that.

“Um, there’s- there’s- um.” Keith sank back on the bed, flushing, and covered his face with his arms. He unfolded one long enough to wave a hand off the edge of the bed towards his belt. “_Lance_, he- My belt, there’s. . .”

Drawing back, Shiro made a confused noise, but there was a rustling sound after, and when Keith peeked out again Shiro was eyeing the tube of lubricant Lance had shoved in one of his pouches dubiously. “He said I might need it. Either alone or- or _not_.” Keith said, squirming a little.

He forgot his horror at Lance’s insistence - it was fuzzy and distant from here and now anyway; his thoughts were filled with heat and adoration and _Shiro_ and there was no room in his world for anything else - as Shiro pushed his arm away and bent to kiss him, hard and demanding. Keith mewled and arched under Shiro, legs spreading to let him settle close again, arms winding around his broad shoulders instead.

“Now will you. . .” Keith asked against Shiro’s mouth, and groaned as he felt slick fingers sliding up his thigh. “_Yes_, Shiro, _oh_. . .” He groaned, head tipping back, and spread his thighs a little wider in welcome.

Shiro shuddered over him, fingers rubbing at his ass and pushing gently inside him. Keith mewled, fingers curling against Shiro’s back. He gasped and squirmed, muscles spasming, and Shiro kissed his throat, murmuring praise and compliments and making Keith feel like he would catch _fire_ with every word.

“Shiro- Shiro, _Shiro_, oh-” Keith gasped, hips twitching up into Shiro’s hand. He moaned, toes curling, as Shiro’s fingers slid deeper, stretching him open with an aching pressure that just made him burn all the hotter.

“You’re so good like this baby, so _sweet_. . .” Shiro licked his throat, and Keith squirmed, muscles tightening around Shiro’s fingers.

“_Shiro!_” Keith whimpered and clung to his shoulders. “Please. . . Need _you_, come on. . .”

“You have me.” Shiro said softly, nipping at his throat. “You always have me, if you want me, baby.” he promised, and Keith shivered, chest tightening. “You always will.”

“Oh. Oh, _Shiro_.” Keith swallowed thickly, turning his face into Shiro’s neck as he moved above Keith.

“What do you need?” Shiro asked, moving away just enough that his deep grey eyes caught Keith’s, earnest and heated and open. It stole Keith’s breath away and he had to fight to catch it again, holding on to Shiro even harder with both hands, closing his legs around Shiro’s waist more tightly.

Keith opened his mouth, then whimpered again rather than speak as Shiro’s fingers shifted inside him, lashes fluttering closed. It took him several minutes to find his voice, gone shivery all through as Shiro murmured praise and encouragement, fingers rocking inside him.

Keith shivered and moaned. “Shiro, please. . .” He shifted, forcing himself to loosen the grip of his thighs on Shiro at least enough to allow him to move between them. “I need you inside me. _You._ Not just your fingers but. . .” he trailed off breathily into a soft cry as Shiro hummed and nibbled at his throat.

“You want my cock in you, baby?” Shiro asked against his ear and Keith’s stomach tightened with tingling warmth. “_Need_ me?”

Keith dragged his hands up to the nape of Shiro’s neck and pulled, bringing him down. He moved easily, a shaky breath tickling Keith’s cheek as he came close. “_Yes._” Keith groaned, then kissed Shiro hard. “_Now_, I’m fine and I’ll _be_ fine, just- Take me, Shiro.” he pleased between rough, sloppy kisses.

Shiro made a soft choking sound himself, his fingers twitching inside Keith, then slowly withdrew his hand with a rolling twist that made Keith keen, vision going blank white for a moment. “Oh, _fuck_, Keith.” Shiro was half gasping, lips brushing Keith’s jaw, and he made a curious sound, kneading at Shiro’s shoulders. “Just- You- You’re. . .” Shiro shook his head, and Keith caught a flash of his smile before he was kissing Keith again, warm and consuming. He closed his eyes with a low, throaty purr, toes curling, and sank into it.

Shiro’s palm slid up his thigh, not quite nudging at him, and he brought it easily higher, arching into Shiro’s body as he settled closer. Keith’s breath caught as he felt the sticky heat of Shiro’s cockhead brush his skin, and he groaned, hitching roughly.

Sliding against him, Shiro hissed softly, breathing just a little ragged. His cock nestled up against Keith’s ass where he _ached_ to feel Shiro inside him and he whimpered softly, fingers curling until the tips all but dug into the thick muscle at the base of Shiro’s neck. He groaned, shifting above Keith, and then, slowly, shaking slightly, slid against him and-

Keith tipped his head back with a low cry as Shiro pushed inside, pulling him in with both legs and almost bucking as he sank deeper.

“Ah! _Ah_, baby, easy. . .” Shiro stroked his face, thumb brushing first his brow and then his cheekbone, his mouth. . . Panting, Keith caught it gently between his teeth, feeling the shudders running through Shiro’s body as he moaned softly. He rocked his hips very shallowly, changing the angle as his cock edged deeper.

Keith moaned himself, curling his tongue against the pad of Shiro’s thumb and biting down a little harder before he let go. “Shiro.” He tipped his hips up against Shiro’s, taking him in further, repeating his name in soft, needy, breathy cries that melted into a steady rhythm as he wriggled and pushed into the pressure of Shiro’s cock spreading him open.

“Oh, fuck, Keith.” Shiro said, voice low, and kissed along his jaw. Keith tipped his head into the dull scrape of teeth and wet heat of tongue following after. “Hearing you like this. . . And the way you feel-” he broke off with a cry, hips hitching as he sheathed himself fully in Keith’s body.

Keith moaned, long and loud, shivering down to his core as his muscles tightened in an unsteady, fluttery grip around the achingly pleasurable stretch of Shiro’s cock inside him. Shiro’s hips tilted and Keith’s lashes fluttered as his back arched in reaction.

He wanted to tell Shiro how wonderful _he_ felt, hot and close and so deep Keith thought he could never forget the feeling of _Shiro buried inside him_ and that thought made him giddy with pleasure. Keith _wanted_ to tell Shiro that, all of it, but dizzying pleasure and heat and want and the overwhelming sensation and pure _emotion_ flooding his body stole his words. He tried instead to convey it with fierce little kisses, and his tight hold on Shiro’s shoulders, and the way his body moved to both welcome Shiro inside and match his rhythm as he began, deliciously slowly, to move.

Shiro moaned and returned his kisses with needy fervour, rocking against Keith and sliding one hand down his side in a clingy caress, stopping at his hip to squeeze tight and pull him up into a deeper, rolling thrust. Keith groaned and moved with it easily, letting Shiro push him into a new position and crying out as Shiro’s cock drove deep then withdrew in a smooth movement.

Shiro continued his caress down Keith’s thigh, fingertips digging into the tense muscle briefly. Keith mewled, a shiver running through him. He clung to Shiro’s shoulders and arched, head tipping back, gasping.

Shiro moved with him, catching the shift in his rhythm without a hitch and pressing kisses to his throat, soft and warm and mixed with low moans of his name. Keith tightened his legs around Shiro’s waist and pulled himself up against Shiro, finding that they moved as comfortably together like this as they always had and feeling a wave of achingly delighted warmth pour through him at the thought.

“Love you, love to feel you like this, being with you. . .” Keith shifted and met Shiro’s eyes, finding them heated and intent and shivering, breath catching.

“I’ve always wanted to be closer to you, _with_ you,” Shiro’s face twisted as he interrupted himself with a low cry, eyes closing as he thrust just a little harder, “to- to have you _like this_, close as we can be. . . To feel like we belong wound up like this, together. . . Like we’ll never have to be apart again. . .”

Keith shivered, his inner muscles tightening around Shiro’s cock. “Oh- _Shiro._” he breathed as Shiro moaned, rocking into him, cock shifting into new angles inside and making his toes curl. “Yes. _Yes_, just like-” Keith moaned, lashes fluttering, and buried his face against Shiro’s shoulder, arching up into Shiro’s body, needing to feel his beloved against him everywhere he could reach.

Shiro let more of his weight rest on Keith as they moved together, making him want to purr even as he shuddered and writhed, overwhelmed with the pleasure stoked by every slow, tantalising thrust of Shiro’s cock inside him.

“We _do_ belong together,” Keith finally managed, faintly clinging to the sense of it, determined to get the words out, “close and- and closer, just like this,” his voice faltered into a breathy cry as he bent a little and his muscles tightened around Shiro’s cock again just as he bottomed out, “always- always been _so good_, you and me together, even without- But _wanted_, so much. . .”

Shiro almost whimpered in his ear, then nipped high on his throat, panting hot and quick against his skin. “_Keith_, baby, fuck-” Shiro’s movements over him, _in_ him, faltered and then picked up again with a hard thrust that made Keith yowl, every nerve lighting with sparking pleasure. Keith barely caught any of the words Shiro was muttering against his skin before he fell silent and bit harder just beneath Keith’s ear.

Keith’s own voice was lost to a breathless, urgent rush of garbled cries as eager, needy pleasure rose within him like a roaring fire that spread through every limb and curled around his heart. He moaned roughly, clinging to Shiro and trying thoughtlessly to drag him _closer_, even as their bodies pressed together so firmly it was difficult to breathe - or maybe it was only that it was _Shiro_ so close, Shiro _inside_ him, that made him so dizzy and breathless and hot and-

Keith’s legs squeezed tight around Shiro’s waist and his fingers dug into Shiro’s shoulders as he cried out, the tension within him suddenly surging to a searing culmination. Pleasure consumed every sense and every fibre of Keith’s being, and he trembled as he spilled his release across his own skin, smearing as Shiro kept moving against him. Keith whimpered and squirmed, overwhelmed by the enormity of the pleasure filling him up until he felt he would have to scream or shatter or simply be lost in the depths of it forever.

Shiro’s teeth dug into his neck a little harder and Keith twitched, then groaned as a new, softer wave of heat rushed through him with the small movement, feeling suddenly settled and kept and _safe_. Shiro’s hips snapped against his with a shuddering twist, and then Shiro went still and tense above him.

Keith managed to loosen his grip, shivering, inner muscles tightening - Shiro whined thinly into Keith’s neck, sucking at the bite caught between his teeth, hips twitching once - and smoothed his hands over Shiro’s back and sides in long, meandering strokes. He purred as Shiro shuddered under his hands, tension slowly easing. Shiro sank down as it ebbed away, crushing Keith into the bed. He released Keith’s neck and kissed the throbbing, hot place where his mouth had been.

Keith hummed low in his throat, eyes closed, and wound his arms around Shiro, even as he eased his legs down from around Shiro’s waist. It was the most he wanted to move, and he smiled, maybe a little sloppily, against Shiro’s shoulder as Shiro nestled into him in return.

Shiro kissed his ear and along his jaw, and Keith giggled giddily, warm and shivery with the pleasure that was still sparking in every limb. Shiro laughed, hitching and warm, and pressed more kisses along Keith’s jaw and up his face until he was laughing and wriggling, head falling back.

Shiro shifted over him and pressed one longer, firmer kiss to his cheekbone, then stopped moving. It took a moment for Keith’s breathless laughter to fade, but he shivered as it did and tilted his head to meet Shiro’s gaze, eyes wide.

Shiro smiled at him, achingly sweet, eyes sweeping over his face and then meeting his own once more.

“Shi-”

“I love you, baby.” Shiro said softly, shifting over him a little and bracing himself on both forearms. “I’ve loved you for so long and I _need_ you, no matter how it is, always. Like part of me. Better than.” He swallowed.

Keith’s heart throbbed almost painfully. “Shiro.” He reached up and stroked Shiro’s face, then tugged him down and kissed him gently. “I love you. So much. Could move the stars with nothing more than Red’s engines sooner than I could ever stop or let go of you.”

Shiro’s breath caught, and then he let out a shaky laugh, a few tears catching in his lashes. Keith bit his lip, then kissed Shiro’s cheek once more, fingers brushing over Shiro’s short, shaggy hair and curling at the back of his neck.

Shiro shifted a little and they both whined as they parted, Shiro’s cock sliding free of Keith’s body with a sticky-slick heat. His muscles tightened and he swallowed a whine at the deep, raw, but not-unpleasant ache of it. He held tight to Shiro. Shiro smiled, snug against Keith’s side, left arm wrapped across his chest and fingers curling into his hair.

Keith cuddled into him, hooking one heel behind his calf. “I. . .” He tucked his face down almost against Shiro’s collarbone, and brushed his lips over a thick scar there. “I’ve been trying to come to you and . . . at least tell you how I feel,” he paused, licking his lips, and nuzzled into Shiro, “for . . . so long.”

“Oh. . . Oh, baby.” Shiro’s arms tightened around him, and Keith shivered, the little tension that had begun to wind through him dissipating again. “I. . . You’re braver than me.” he said softly, and Keith raised his head, startled.

Shiro smiled just a little. “I wished. . . But I’ve never thought I could . . . maybe not even that I _should_ try. I only . . . wished. Thank you,” he added, rubbing a hand up and down Keith’s back without loosening his hold, “for being braver than me.”

“I don’t think I am.” Keith said, but caressed Shiro’s face and nudged their noses together almost playfully. “I won’t argue, though. If it brought. . .”

Shiro laughed softly, his expression easing, and then sighed, closing his eyes and tilting his head to rest his brow against Keith’s. “I never would have thought- Even if we _did_, ever, for it to be . . . like this.”

Keith blinked, then shook his head, laughing a little himself. “Complaining?” he asked, and Shiro opened his eyes again, meeting Keith’s gaze.

His smile broadened. “Ooh . . . _never_, baby.” Shiro stroked his back, smoothing over his hip and squeezing his ass, and Keith whimpered, shivering, as his muscles tightened and heat and achy pleasure throbbed through him once more. “Are you all right?”

Keith _moaned_, nuzzling against Shiro’s cheek and then drawing him into a kiss, deep and smooth.

“_So_ much better than.” Keith breathed as their lips parted. Shiro kissed him again, legs tangling with his own, and Keith purred into the kiss, trying to pour all his adoring devotion into the contact. Shiro made a choked little moaning sound deep in his throat and pulled Keith even closer into the curve of his body, and Keith smiled into the kiss.

**Coda:**

“Have you seen Keith?”

Lance looked up, then flinched as the tablet in his hands made a descending series of trilling noises. His little avatar had crashed into something game-ending while his attention had been caught by something else. Again. “No. I’m sure he’s fine.”

“Of course.” Shiro agreed, looking distracted. He frowned, nodded to Lance, then turned to walk away.

Then Keith walked in the door, and Lance’s eyes widened. He flicked off the tablet and tucked it into a pocket.

“Keith!” Shiro greeted happily, striding to him, hands already outstretched. “Is- Erm. . . What is this?”

“He’s a phizzuk.” Keith said, opening his arms to better show a dull violet . . . puppy. It might be an alien creature of some kind, Lance thought, but regardless of its origin _that was a puppy_. A big, squirmy, purple alien not-puppy. “He, that is. . .”

Shiro reached out his left hand to the puppy, which put its ears - tufted with little brighter purple-pink splotches on them - down, then snuffled curiously at him. Lance could almost _see_ Shiro melting on the spot, particularly as the tufted ears perked back up and the puppy stretched its head closer to him. “He’s _adorable_.” Shiro crooned, gently rubbing the puppy’s face and ears as it wriggled in Keith’s arms.

The puppy was more than half the size of his torso, but Keith didn’t so much as waver as he began to flail in Keith’s hold, front paws stretching out as he leaned further forwards over Keith’s supporting arms.

“You brought him here, is. . .” Shiro interrupted himself to coo at the puppy again, and Keith shifted his weight and hugged the puppy tighter against himself.

“He . . . didn’t have anywhere else to go, and the town is struggling as it is with the rebuilding and salvaging what they can, there are animals that should be pets, really, running around stray everywhere instead.” Keith said, and Lance bit his lip, even as a quip about Keith being mushy-hearted sprang to mind. He’d have been hard-pressed not to have his heartstrings wrenched, too, if it was anything like the _last_ bombed-out town they’d helped with - he might have brought something fluffy home himself, then, but the life native to that planet - its atmosphere horrendously toxic to humans and uncomfortable for Alteans - couldn’t survive air safe for _them_ in return.

“Oh! Oh, Keith. . . Wait, we can-” Shiro interrupted himself, ruffling the puppy’s ears. His expression was _ridiculously_ hopeful and sweet and worried. “I don’t know if he could stay.”

“Allura says he can, and Coran says it’ll be no trouble to feed him on the Castle, just like us.” Keith said with a shrug. “If we _want_ him, we can keep him. I wanted to ask you, but . . . I also wanted to make sure we could first.” Keith smiled crookedly, with the soft look in his eyes that showed up almost solely for Shiro. “Do you want him, love?”

Of fucking _course_ Shiro _wanted him_, Lance thought, Shiro was practically _yearning_ for the puppy, and giving Keith his most melty, ridiculous expression.

Keith gently dropped the puppy into his arms and steadied him with a hand on his ribs and one on his arm, and Shiro leaned into him, and Lance muttered to himself, ignoring the rest of their discussion about their new puppy as they made soft faces at each other, looking ridiculously domestic and like they’d never been anything other than devoted and sweet to each other. Not that they _hadn’t_, exactly - it wasn’t like they’d ever been less than friendly and warm, _devoted_, even, but. . .

Lance kicked a bit at one of the cushions that had fallen off the nearest couch, huffing. “I’m happy for you two _dumbasses_!” he muttered moodily, then snorted. He _was_, they were stupidly in love and he was really glad they _finally_ saw that about each other - even if it had taken him accidentally sort of dumping emotional honesty pollen and aphrodisiac on them; he probably wouldn’t have done that on purpose - but they were just so- so-

“Come sit down, Lance, and have a cookie, you’re getting kind of worked up.” Hunk said almost kindly, and Lance pouted even as he snatched the cookie his friend was handing over.

“I will take your cookie,” he said, and flung himself onto the couch - Pidge nearly elbowed him in the shoulder, he had maybe chosen his spot poorly, “but I will _not_ calm down! Look at those two clueless _idiots_! Wouldn’t recognise a feeling if it danced on their heads!”

“They’ve been together for months.” Pidge pointed out, mouth twisting thoughtfully.

“And we were trying to get them together for _months_ before that!” Lance countered through his bite of cookie, ducking away when Pidge’s eyes darted to the crumbs Lance had, er, _dropped_ when he took his bite, then narrowed in a glare. “They’re ridiculous!” Lance hurried on, flinging his hand out to gesture at them before he even looked again.

They were, indeed, still being sappily domestic, kneeling on the floor with the puppy, letting him wander around and sniff at things, though he mostly seemed fascinated by _them_. Their _faces_. . . Lance huffed and shoved the rest of the cookie in his mouth.

Hunk came back over to them with a plate holding what looked like the rest of the batch of cookies.

“You’re a good friend, Hunk.” Lance mumbled through the last bite of his first cookie.

“So are you, and you know they appreciate it.” Hunk said, grinning and sitting beside Lance. He offered the plate. “Best wingman ever, right?”

Lance brightened a little, glancing at his friends making silly-sweet adoring faces at each other, _openly_, over their new puppy. “That’s _totally_ me!” Lance agreed, preening. He ignored Pidge’s snort beside him and beamed as he grabbed another cookie.


End file.
